


Rematch

by RomanTheBroman



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, Carolina is depressed and stressed, F/M, Implied Relationships, MMA AU, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 03:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17675954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomanTheBroman/pseuds/RomanTheBroman
Summary: Carolina was a champion MMA fighter who lost her title when aggressive newcomer Texas entered the scene. Carolina spends a year training day and night for a chance at reclaiming her title.





	Rematch

It was late at night. How late? Carolina had no idea at this point. All she knew was that her form needed to be better. She needed to be better. This is all she could think as she repeatedly attacked the punching bag. Her grunts of exertion mixed with the sound of the from a top sports commentary broadcast were the only sounds to fill the large and deserted gym.

  
“We haven’t heard from Carolina in awhile.”

  
“Yeah, now she wants a rematch. Does she actually want a shot at winning?”

  
“Who knows, maybe she’s been doing nothing but training since their last match.”

  
“For her sake, I sure hope she has.”

  
“Even if that was the case, would it even be enough?”

  
“It’s Texas. No amount of training can truly prepa-”

  
The broadcast clicked off and was replaced with a new voice.

  
“You really shouldn’t be listening to that shit. Especially not while training,” said a man from the doorway. Carolina didn’t need need to turn around to see who was intruding upon her space. It was York. Whether she liked it or not, he was always there looking out for her.

“Did I ask your opinion? Did I even ask you to be here right now,” said Carolina, still not diverting to her attention from the bag.

  
“No, but seeing as it’s one and you never showed up to the dinner plans we had, I got concerned.” Carolina didn’t respond, but her movements slowed, but only minutely. “I just wanted to know that you were alright is all. You weren’t answering your phone.” She didn’t respond so York kept talking, “You see, I figured ‘She’ll be fine. Just a late practice. She’ll respond eventually.’ But after a few hours I figured you could be doing one thing.”

  
To Carolina's surprise he stopped talking. Their conversations normally ended after telling her not put this much pressure on herself. That losing to one person didn’t make any less of a talented of a fighter. He would ask her to rest. To find a moment where her only thoughts weren’t about beating Texas. They’ve been having this conversation since she lost the bantamweight title to Texas a year ago. Carolina was almost happy for the change of script. That inspirational introspective crap was the last thing she needed to hear right now. York may not like it, but Carolina was determined to work herself to death for a mere shot at reclaiming her title, mental and physical well-being be damned. This didn’t stop her from feeling a twinge of guilt though. Carolina knew that York only had her best interest at heart, and that every time she pulled a stunt like the one she did tonight she was not only hurting herself. She was also hurting the person she cared for the most.

  
Carolina stopped training and rested her face against the punching bag for a brief moment. Her exhale was deep and heavy. When she lifted it again she felt a twinge of fatigue strike her. The toll of her training finally started to catch up to her.

  
“I’m sorry York. I couldn’t focus on anything but this all day.” She turned to face him. “I just can’t relax knowing that the rematch is only two weeks away.”

“So destroying your body before is the answer?”

  
“You’re right, and I’m sorry for standing you up and not answering your calls, but this is what I need to be doing. If I don’t win…” She couldn't finish the sentence. Failure was an idea that she could not entertained at this time. “I need to win, York.”

  
He sighed, “You’re going to stay here no matter what I say, aren’t you?” She held his gaze. “Fine, then I might as well stay here too.”

“No, you’re not.”

  
York took a seat on the floor by near the wall, “What, so when you collapse from exhaustion no one will be around to help you?”

  
Couldn’t argue there. The less she moved he more her fatigue caught up to her. “I’ll start my cool down,” was her only response.

  
After another thirty minutes Carolina finally finished for the night. With her muscles feeling like lead, she let York drive her back to her apartment. She’ll just take an Uber to the gym to get her car tomorrow.

  
The car ride was quite. The only words exchanged were their goodbyes once they finally got to Carolina’s place. She took a quick shower and fell into her bad without drying her hair. It’ll just go back in a braid again in the morning so who cared.

  
She fell asleep as soon as she closed her eyes and not much later did she have the dream again. The closer the rematch got the more she had the dramatic retelling of her biggest regret.

* * *

  
It was that night one year ago. She was in the octagon waiting for her match against the newcomer Allison “Texas” Church to start. Tex might have won all of her previous matches with can only be described as brutal efficiency, but she never faced Carolina. She has never lost either making this match the most anticipated of the year.

  
The bell rang.

  
Everything after that was a struggle to keep the upper hand. Carolina never faced someone who can even be considered on the same level as her. So finally facing someone matched her skills with an unchecked rage to to boot made this fight nothing short of stressful.

  
Tex got in a well-placed shot on Carolina’s face. Her lip most have split because she was suddenly tasting blood. Ignore it, she thought as she countered. She seemed to be taking more damage than she was dealing, but that didn’t mean anything. As long as she was still standing there was still a chance she could knock Tex on her ass. Unfortunately that was her last thought before everything went dark. She was now standing outside of her body. Nose broken and bleeding on the mat as her title was given to Texas. Her corner came up to see if she was okay. She was roused and helped out of the ring. Her form disappeared from the scene altogether as everyone else cheered on Texas. The new reigning champ.

  
Carolina woke up. It was seven am. She cursed. She should have already been on her morning run.

  
That’s how she spent her time leading up to the fight. Exhausted and stressed but refusing to stop moving. She only stopped to sleep, and eat. She didn’t want to think, because every time she did she just remembered her own failure.

* * *

 

It was time for the weigh-in, and Carolina waited for Texas to arrive. This would would be the first time she saw Texas face to face since their last match. She dreaded seeing that blood-thirsty gaze again, but seeing her just meant that she was that much closer to knocking it off.

  
She kept that confidence going up until she caught sight of her opponent across the room. She stared motionless at her. Carolina had been anticipating this but it just didn’t seem real. The Tex of her nightmares seemed more corporeal than the one she was looking at. Just then Tex turned and caught her gaze. Carolina remembered herself and gave a nod in response.

  
This wasn’t right. This was not the look received at their last weigh-in. Texas’ eyes weren’t filed with rage or contempt. Instead they seemed calm. Relaxed almost. Was she really that cocky about their rematch? Regardless, this was a whole new level of arrogance.

  
Soon enough Carolina was called up to the stage to. She stepped on the scale. She made weight. No surprise there. She weighed herself everyday after all. Then it was Texas’ turn. Again, no surprises. It wouldn’t be like Tex to screw herself like that. Carolina still couldn’t get over the look in her eye. Even when they faced each other and shook hands she could not find a single trace of hot-head she fought a year ago. This was wrong.

  
They parted and the announcer came over, “Carolina, you haven’t had a match in a year. How are you feeling going up against the woman who beat you after all this time?”

  
“It’s just another fight. Her beating me once doesn’t make her special.”

* * *

 

When she came home for the night anxiety consumed her. The closer the fight came the more distorted her dreams got. They used to be semi realistic only getting distorted after she lost. Now her entire match was five seconds, and she watched it from outside of her body. She briefly considered not sleeping, but that would just set her up for disaster. She paced her bedroom thinking of alternatives. Calling York was an option, but she doubted he could help. At least that’s what she convinced herself. Meditation is bullshit, and herbal tea wouldn’t do shit. In the end she rewatched her last fight with Texas as well as Texas’ most recent fights. Again.. Studying how an opponent fought wasn’t that unusual but keeping tabs on Texas became something of an obsession for her. She needed to know if Texas was acting calm today because she already beat Carolina, or if something else going on.

* * *

 

Her dream that night was different than the rest. She was dressed for her fight, but she wasn’t in the octagon. She wasn’t anywhere. She existed in an expanse of black nothingness.

  
“Didn’t think you’d actually show your face, Carolina,” said a voice from behind her.

  
She turned to face her opponent, “You think I was just gonna leave you undefeated?”

  
“You showing up isn’t going to change that.”

  
The second Texas’ voice stopped Carolina was knocked to the ground. ‘How did that bitch get to here so fast?’ she thought.  
Caroline tried to fight back but she couldn’t move. Something was holding her in place.

  
“Now what did I tell you? You can’t win, Carolina,” Texas said with a casual tone before she straddled her. Her face looming over her own.

  
Being unable to get up would be enough for a fight to end but that didn’t seem to matter to Tex. She punch Carolina’s face without restraint. First, Carolina’s lips split. Her mouth filling with blood. Then her nose broke. The pain was enough to make her scream. Her vision was blurring as blood ran down her face. She struggled to get free. To make this stop, but the invisible force kept her still as Texas unloaded on her.

* * *

  
She snapped awake to the saving grace that was her alarm. Today was the day. She shoved her residual fear aside and got ready.

* * *

 

It was now or never. Carolina could hear the shouts of a probably full crowd through the metal doors. They were all cheers for Texas of course. Why would she still fans after all this time. She shook the thought off. This was her chance to get her life on track and she wasn’t about to let such superficial things get in her head.

  
The doors opened and she walked into the stadium. Carolina almost forgot how bright the lights could be, or how loud it all was. It was a bit overwhelming, but she kept reminding herself that she's done this countless times before. She redirected her attention from the spectators and the cameras, and focused on the ring. With all of the chaos that surrounded her in this vast space that was the only thing that seemed grounding. This is where she was meant to be. Her coach was talking to her, but she didn’t hear him. Her skin was crawling and she couldn’t stop moving. She just needed to get into the ring already.

  
The cheers got louder. Texas was making her entrance. Carolina started to grind her teeth. God, did she want to knock her out. It’d be poetic justice really. Humiliating Texas in the same fashion she was all Carolina really wanted.

  
They stepped into the ring, and the match started. Last night Carolina learned that Texas no longer tries to throw a punch right out of the gate, but Carolina still expected it to happen. That absence made her feel uneasy, but not uneasy enough not to try to kick Texas in her left flank. Her intent must have been written all over her face because her foot was caught with ease, and quickly countered sending Carolina onto the mat. She rolled and got back on her feet. The match continued in a similar manner for awhile. Every attempt Carolina made was was countered like it was nothing, and yet all the while Texas seemed unwilling to do any major damage. Carolina felt like she was a mouse being toyed with. Was she not worth any real effort? Why wasn’t she trying to knock her out?

  
Carolina had now lasted longer than she did last time, but this match still felt harder. Everything seemed to drag on for eternity even though she knew it was still only round one. Hell, they were probably only three minutes into the fight. Carolina’s rage was making her irrational and her attacks were proving less and less effective. She needed to calm down, but how could she when she was up against this arrogant asshole. She needed to change strategy. If she could just get in close maybe she could get her that way.

  
She deflected one one of Tex’s shin strikes. Carolina took that as her chance and closed the space between the two of them, and struck Texas in the head. Or she tried to at least. Texas blocked and then hooked Carolina’s ankles thus sending her to the ground yet again. She tried to recover, but it was too late. Taxes had her pinned. As Carolina struggled to break free the ref began to count. She fumed and fought, but she couldn’t get any leverage. The familiarity of this made her panic all the more. And just like that the match was over.

  
Texas got up and accepted her victory. Her face face barely held a smile. Only a slight upturn of her lips. She expected victory Carolina decided. That thought made something go cold inside of herself. She left the ring. On her way out she ignored everyone around her. Granted, only her team and vulturous reporters wanted her attention, but she couldn’t find a reason to care about their existence. She didn’t even care for what York had to say. He came to see the fight of course, and found Carolina the second he could get to her. She told him to get lost. He refused. She wanted to chew him out for this, to make him hurt, but she knew that’s not what she really wanted. Instead she told him she needed to be alone. He squeezed her shoulder, said he’d call her later, and left.

  
This fight didn't sit right in her. At least in the last one she had a clear failure, but this one felt like it didn’t really happen. All this time she thought the only option was a knockout on either side. This was like an option that shouldn't have existed in the first place.

 

She was on her way out when she caught Texas. Her mind went dark and as if on autopilot she stormed over and unleashed everything that’s been bothering her.

 

“What was that?” Carolina demanded.

 

Tex look shocked and confused at the sight of Carolina fuming before her and simply said, “I’m sorry?’

 

“Don’t act confused. That fight. Why did you pin me?”

 

Texas started to shake her head ever so slightly, “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

 

Carolina wanted to punch her, but decided against it, “Why did you treat me differently this time. Why didn’t you try to win by knockout?”

 

“You wanted to be knocked out?”

 

“No I didn’t want to be knocked out you idiot. I wanted to win. I just want to know why you went easy on me. So spit it out already.”

 

“Carolina, I didn’t go easy on you. I just fight differently than I did a year ago.”

 

“Are you kidding me? What kind of excuse is that? Just admit you don’t see me as real competition.”

 

“I don’t know where you got that Idea but understand, this is just how I fight now. This has nothing to do with you.”

 

That was not the answer Carolina wanted. She opened her mouth to say more, but she froze. She saw that the few people who had access to this part of the building were watching them. More importantly, some had their phones out to capture her melt down. Not wanting to give them anymore satisfaction she left.

  
By the time Carolina got home her rage faded to sadness. She lost to Texas, again. She didn’t even make it to the second round. She wished she was still raging. She wished she could just scream to get her frustration out, but instead she empty. Like nothing mattered, and maybe it didn’t. Who the fuck knows. With a loss of what to do, Carolina did the basics. She showered, and got ready for bed. As she dried her hair, she noticed her phone ringing. It was York. She couldn’t stand the thought of talking to someone, not even him. She let it go to voicemail and continued drying her hair.

  
She didn’t dream of losing that night. Instead she dreamed of her meltdown in front of Texas. She re-lived it all over and over again. She couldn’t seem to escape her own child-like rage. As much as she regretted how she fought in the ring, she regretted making a fool of herself just as much.

  
She woke up feeling sick to her stomach. She lied in bed not moving for as long as she could. She didn’t want to face the world, but she knew she had to sooner or later. She dragged herself in to the kitchen made a pot of coffee with her too heavy limbs. As the coffee brewed she convinced herself to turn on the TV to see what people were saying about her now. Immediately she was confronted with her own yelling. It was a video one of the maintenance people took of her when she confronted Texas. Seeing her rage matched with Texas calmness made Carolina hate herself all the more. She switched to other sports channels but it was just more of the same. The only thing that anyone could talk about is how she finally lost it. She tried to watch a few more minutes, but was too disgusted with herself to do so.

  
With the TV off and the mere thought of ingesting anything twisting her stomach, she dumped her coffee and slumped against the counter dumbfounded. She considered going back to bed, but doubted she could. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to for fear of more nightmares. The sound of her own voice screaming that Texas was messing with her rang through her head. Why did she do that? Why couldn’t she leave and get drunk like any other person whose unable to cope with their situation? She replayed all of her mistakes. Starting with yelling at Texas, to all the places she went wrong in the match, to the past year, their first fight, hell she started to analyze her whole career. Everything she did lead her to this mess. She just need to figure out how.

  
She stayed like this until she heard her phone ring. She walked towards the source of the ringing. Oddly enough she left it her bag. She was surprised it still had a charge.

  
She stared at the name on the screen for a bit before answering, “Hey, York.”

  
“God, I’ve been trying to reach you since last night. I was starting to think that you were never gonna pick up... How are you?”

  
She didn’t respond so York continued for her, “You saw the footage, huh?”

  
“Of me exploding at Tex like a crazed idiot, yeah I saw it. It’s everywhere. How could I not.”

  
“It’s not that bad.”

  
“Oh yeah, did you hear what people were saying about me. They said that my year off only made me worse. That I’d sooner die in the ring then lose like that again. Worse yet, I’m starting to think they’re right and I hate it.”

  
“You were stressed for a year straight, and you snapped. It happens, but you can’t let other people tell you how to feel. That won’t help?”

 

“I’m not letting anyone tell me how to feel. I let myself stew in fear and regret for a year and now, now I’m worse than I was before.”

 

“I can’t begin to imagine how you are feeling, but you can’t do this to yourself. If you hate that you stewed in all of that for a year, maybe fight someone that isn’t Texas to get yourself back into the swing of things. What do you think?”

 

“I don’t think I can.”

 

“You don’t have to decide anything right now, but I want you to know that I’m here for you, and as long as you’re willing to fight so am I.”

 

“York, I… ” she pressed the heel of her free hand into into her eye, “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

 

“Of course you can. You’re the most resilient person I know. If anyone can bounce back from all of this it’s you” He sounded so hopeful and that only made Carolina feel worse for what she was about to say.

  
“No, I mean I can't do any of this anymore. Not the interviews, not the training, and most importantly, not the fighting. I’m done.”

  
“Carolina.” His voice was stern, yet soft. “You can’t quit after only two losses. You’re better than that.”

  
“No, I’m really not,” her voice started to break, “I lost once and I stopped fighting for a year. I lose again and I explode at my competition for not breaking my nose a second time. Who does that sort of thing?” She could now feel tears building up, but she fought them off. If she started crying now she knew that York would feel guilty that he wasn’t there to comfort her. She wasn’t about to do that to him.

  
“Carolina, please think about this,” he pleaded.

  
“I have, and I can’t live with this kind of stress anymore. Between the expectations, people trying to narrate my every move, the hard days, and the nightmare filled nights, I just can’t.”

  
“It’s okay to feel that way, but please let’s talk through this.”

  
“No, the only thing I can do is quit. Goodbye, York.”

  
“Caro-”

  
The second she hung up she sank to the ground and cried her eyes out. Her tears flowed like waterfalls and her sobs were loud and ugly. She stayed like this for longer than she would have liked, but she knew that she needed this. She didn’t cry or let herself think about anything except winning and regaining her title for the last year. This was the accumulation a years worth of frustration, anger, and fear coming out of her all at once.

  
When her breathing became easier and the tears let up she moved into the kitchen and retrieved a large garbage bag. If she was going to give up on her professional career she wanted a clean break. Her mind was made and she rounded up all of her gear, and started to think of a life outside of the ring.


End file.
